


In Nevis, Never Bed a Native

by orphan_account



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda, Historical RPF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 19:45:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14700954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: John does not want to go on vacation.Alex does not want his mom to die.Relationships bloom, crumble, stiffen, and advance. Gayness ensures.





	In Nevis, Never Bed a Native

**Author's Note:**

> I never beta my work, so there are errors most likely. Just enjoy the story.

“Dad, why do we have to go on vacation?”

“Because you need to see the world, son. It'll do you good in the future,” Henry Laurens assured his male offspring, John.

“Why some logic-forsaken, primitive island, though? Nevis! I've never even  _ heard  _ of Nevis.” The thirteen-year-old’s calculating blue eyes narrowed as they darted towards his father, as if the latter had ulterior motives for bringing him here. “I mean, why do you even want to go there? They have so much slavery there, it's terrible.”

“Yeah, well, I'm trying to get your eyes off of that danged phone. Maybe raising awareness will make you aware of what's going on around you.”

“Dad, come on. I'm a teenager, it's either kids or adults that actually accomplish things.”

“That's because teenagers never try.”

John sighed. “Fine.” He peered out of the mini-airplane window, his faint reflection exposing the lack of time he spent on his hair. The mix of dirty-blonde and bleach-white hair tumbled over his shoulders once he pulled out his ponytail. Pulling a comb through it, he grumbled. It would never be smooth.

“The price of thick, luscious hair,” his mother had said. He trusted her then, but her 'common sense’ became the thing that ruined her marriage.

When they landed at the small landing-runway thing, his stomach churned and his heart leapt to his throat. The kid greeting his father had feminine, violet-blue eyes and sandy hair. His smile seemed warm, but the strained genuity of it was something John had tried and succeeded in pulling off before. If you paid close attention, it gave the person whom the smile was aimed at the impression that the first person was mad at life, not you in particular.

“Welcome, Mr. Laurens! My name is Alexander Hamilton, I work for the hotel in which you'll be staying in.”

“Aren't you a bit young to―?”

“Oh, usually, yes, but my mother works there. It's a long story.” He turned and met John's gaze. “Is your son coming with you?”

“Yes. John!”

“Sorry.” John stumbled out, tripping on the ledge and bumping Alexander's hip, then grabbing his shoulder for support.

“I am so sorry!” John said, jumping back once he regained balance. “I'm not usually this clumsy.”

“It's all right. Jet lag, right?” Alexander offered an empathetic half-smile.

“Ehh, it was a one-way trip. Maybe leg cramps.” Being closer to this “Alexander” brought to his attention the freckles scattered aesthetically across the boy's face.

_ Like a night sky back in South Carolina, _ John thought, then mentally kicked himself.  _ Stop it. No. _

“I feel your pain,” Alexander laughed.

John felt a smile tug at his lips despite his brain's protest.

“So, what brings you here?” Alexander asked, turning to Henry.

“Oh, vacation and such. John's also an abolitionist.”

Alexander offered another quirky half-smile. “Me, too. It seems like there's all sorts of slavery here, though. No..not seems like. It's a big issue, but there's not much I can do. Only  _ big cheeses _ can do anything about it ― but none of them care enough to help. You might be able to assist the cause against it, though.”

“Great!” Henry clapped his son on the back. “You get your backpack, I'll get the suitcases. Go ahead with Alexander.” He shot him a wink which was caught by Alexander, but not by John.

The native boy's face paled until his freckles were darker than the expression on John's face. The latter seemed pretty hopeless ― maybe he was a loner back in ― where, again? ― South Carolina, Alexander remembered.

Maybe his dad was worried about this, and promoting the expansion of John's friend group?

After walking a short distance past brutal labor followed by beautiful natural scenery, the two arrived at the entrance of the hotel.

“So ― What was your name? John? John Laurens. I don't believe we've had a proper introduction.” Alexander stuck his hand out, and once John grasped it, he pulled it to his lips gently in lieu of shaking it. “Alexander Hamilton. Call me Alex.”

John giggled nervously. “I'm a boy, you know.”

“I'm well aware. But I've always wanted to try that on someone.”

“Heh.” John decided not to question either of those statements.

“Well, no need to tarry; come in, good sir,” Alex said in a faux British accent, making John laugh. He then twisted his arm behind him so he could pull John through the door.

“Um, reservation for Laur-Laurens, sir,” the latter blustered. Alexander was still holding his hand ―  _ clingy _ , John thought.  _ Nothing more. _

“Henry Laurens?”

“Yes. This is John, his son...he's a bit shy,” Alex explained. “Well, as of right now.”

“Great. Here's your room key,” the man at the front desk said, handing John a key card. “Alex, by the way, stop being so...tenacious. It's eccentric and abnormal of you.”

“Do you want to wait for your dad, or go up to your room?” Alexander said quickly.

“I'll drop the bag in the room and come out. By the way, do you live near here?”

“34 Company Street,” Alex supplied easily. “I'll wait while you 'drop your bag’.”

“Great. Where―”

“Eighth floor, the large suite fourth from the stairwell.”

“Could you go with me?”

“Sure.” Alex shrugged (and finally dropped John's hand). Taking the elevator, John bombarded his partner with questions. “How come you work here?”

“My mom's sick, so me and my brother are filling in for her. Our dad left when I was ten.”

“Oh. How old are you?”

“Twelve, why?”

“I'm thirteen. Do you have a cellphone?”

“Where would I  _ get _ one?”

“Do you have a landline?”

“Yes. Franklin is exporting that stuff all over the globe.”

“Ah. Well, here's my floor.”

“Yep. I'll...wait.”

John was chewing on his lip once he stepped back into the elevator.

“You got the key with you?”

“Yes,” John said, not bothering to actually check.

“You know,” Alex started, lowering his voice, “they have a brochure with rules of conduct if you don't want to get kicked off the island, and one of the things you have to do is promote slave trade.”

John swore. “That's the entire reason my dad convinced me to come,” he grumbled.

“Well, you're rich, right?”

“Sure..”

“Our government is broke, so you actually have an ― if this makes sense ― advantage over them.”

“Wait, an advantage over the government?”

“Yep.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, in less civilized places ― and compared to England, Nevis is definitely one of them ― money means power, money means education, money means the kids get to actually do stuff,” Alexander growled.

“That's basically New England. I'm from South Carolina, I would know.”

“Yes you would,” Alex responded, them delved into silence.

“Did I say something…offensive?” John asked quietly.

“No, no, I'm sorry. No. Just because I'm not talking doesn't mean I'm angry.”

John started.

“That came out in a rude tone. I'm sorry.” Alex sighed. “I'm bad with people.”

“No, no really, you're charming,” John said, then blushed. What the heck was that supposed to mean? He wasn't in 1900s England.

Alex laughed lightly. “I’ve never been told that before. For some reason, many people mistake me for a girl. Apparently I have ‘feminine stature’.”

“I don’t know how,” John said, bouncing back quickly. “I mean, you have some masculine features… you’ve got a really nice nose.”

Alex stopped walking, looking at John curiously. Then he burst into laughter. It dawned on John that nose also had a more jocular definition, and he went red. “Oh, my gosh! That’s not what I meant, I’m sorry…”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Alex giggled. “I'm sorry, I'm so immature.”

John laughed hesitantly. “Not for your age. I think.”

Alex shot a glance at his companion carefully. “Unrelated to this, but you might want to be more careful ― sodomy is punishable by death.”

“In America it's fine.”

“Yeah, John, and the point is, this isn't America. This is Nevis, and we have little freedom.”

“So how do the less fortunate do anything?”

“If you don't get caught, you can do anything,” he grinned, and something stirred in John's conscience. But he was no longer the scared boy of his early childhood. He was a rule-breaker now, a delinquent.

“So basically, more rules makes them harder to enforce?”

“Exactly,” Alex smirked, and John again felt a twist in his lower abdomen. Stinking hormones.

As they both noted, they were nearing John's dad, who was carrying one of those luggage carriers with their stuff on it.

John felt the twitching urge to grab Alex's hand again, but thought better of it and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Misinterpreting this gesture, Alexander laughed, “I can get the luggage. You don't have to.”

“Oh, no, really, it's fine―”

Alexander shook his head. “I've got it. Really. Think of it as a personal favor..you can repay me later.” He winked, and John grinned, unsure. “Alright.”

_ Anything to keep this amazing feeling, _ he thought subconsciously, then kicked himself again.

“Don't make me third wheel, you two,” Henry called. John turned pink, causing Alex to giggle again.

“Don't worry,  _ monsieur Henry Laurens _ ,” Alexander reassured him. “We'll stay out of trouble.”

Somehow John found this funny.

“Y-y’know, let me get that,” Alex stammered, grabbing the cart from Henry.

John pushed the door open, still hiding a smirk as his dad walked past him. He waited until Alexander passed him, then let the door swing shut.

“So we're on the fourth floor,” John said, pressing a few buttons on the elevator. “Let's go!”

“I'll take this now,” Henry said, taking the cart from Alex. “You and John go have fun.”

“We'll take the stairs,” Alex suggested. “More space in the elevator.”

“All right. But stay safe.”

“Okay! Thanks!”

The two ran off to the first floor stair landing, Alex beating John by about four seconds.

“You're fast, Alex,” John gasped, smiling.

“I've got practice running away,” Alex mumbled. “Whatever. Let's go.”

“Alex, you wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“..Please?” John said with a hesitant manner.

“Sorry, no. It's stupid, not important really.”

“A―”

“C'mon. Let's beat your dad upstairs.”

Sighing, John gave in. “Fine.”

As they jogged up the stairs (and sometimes sprinted, as it was eight flights), John noted small things. Alexander's hips were curved slightly inward, but not in the most noticeable way. His jeans were tight fitting in the back, emphasizing his knee indentations as he ran; and in the front creased lower than most, leaving John's imagination to do the work. Alexander's simple white button-up made him look older, even though it was wrinkled and slightly big for him. Though the feminine turn of Alexander's torso was interesting, the lower section of his body was more enticing to John.

“Hey, are you staring at my butt?” Alex teased, stopping on the next landing (causing John to stop too). He pushed out his hip to the side and smirked. “You want a piece of this?”

“Let's go up to our room, please,” John said, blushing at the fact that there was a few people walking around on this floor who gave him strange looks.

“How straightforward you are,” Alex joked, then sprinted up the next flight of stairs. “C'mon, John!”

The teen caught up, finally on the eighth floor. They got into the lobby just as the elevator door opened.

“Hey, you won,” Henry laughed. “We had a few stops. At one I think I heard you two, you must've taken your time.”

“Er..yeah,” John said, and Alex just shot him a shady smirk.

“Alex, would you like to hang out with John for a bit?”

“Um, I'm not free until five. With my job and all, y'know.”

“I can..I can help,” John said brightly.

“’Kay,” Alex said, not verbalizing his thoughts entirely.  _ I'd do anything to see that smile again. _

Aware of the tension building, Henry simply shrugged and pushed the cart down the hall.

“John, have you got the key?”

“Um, yeah, it should be in my pocket,” he responded, digging through his pants pockets.

“You left it in the room,” Alex said quietly.

John cursed under his breath, growling bilingual vulgarities.

Alex grinned in spite of the situation. “You could stay at my house, if you're comfortable.”

“Would your mom be okay with that?” Henry asked.

“Yeah, plus she's always pressuring me to expand my friend group.”

“Alrighty then.”


End file.
